Let me tell you, Mr. Tomlinson, that if it can be distinguished, that my readiness to make up with a family, of whose generosity I have not had reason to think highly, is entirely owing to the value I have for this angel of a woman, I will not only co-operate with Mr. John Harlowe, as you ask; but I will meet with Mr. James Harlowe senior, and his lady, all the way.  And furthermore, to make the son James and his sister Arabella quite easy, I will absolutely disclaim any further interest, whether living or dying, in any of the three brothers’ estates; contenting myself with what my beloved’s grandfather had bequeathed to her:  for I have reason to be abundantly satisfied with my own circumstances and prospects—­enough rewarded, were she not to bring a shilling in dowry, in a woman who has a merit superior to all the goods of fortune.—­True as the Gospel, Belford!—­Why had not this scene a real foundation?

The dear creature, by her eyes, expressed her gratitude, before her lips could utter it.  O Mr. Lovelace, said she—­you have infinitely—­And there she stopt.

The Captain run over in my praise.  He was really affected.

O that I had not such a mixture of revenge and pride in my love, thought I!—­But, (my old plea,) cannot I make her amends at any time?  And is not her virtue now in the height of its probation?—­Would she lay aside, like the friends of my uncontending Rosebud, all thoughts of defiance—­Would she throw herself upon my mercy, and try me but one fortnight in the life of honour—­What then?—­I cannot say, What then—­

Do not despise me, Jack, for my inconsistency—­in no two letters perhaps agreeing with myself—­Who expects consistency in men of our character?—­But I am mad with love—­fired by revenge—­puzzled with my own devices—­my invention is my curse—­my pride my punishment—­drawn five or six ways at once, can she possibly be so unhappy as I?—­O why, why, was this woman so divinely excellent!—­Yet how know I that she is?  What have been her trials?  Have I had the courage to make a single one upon her person, though a thousand upon her temper?—­Enow, I hope, to make her afraid of ever more disobliging me more!—­

***

I must banish reflection, or I am a lost man.  For these two hours past have I hated myself for my own contrivances.  And this not only from what I have related to thee; but for what I have further to relate.  But I have now once more steeled my heart.  My vengeance is uppermost; for I have been reperusing some of Miss Howe’s virulence.  The contempt they have both held me in I cannot bear.

The happiest breakfast-time, my beloved owned, that she had ever known since she had left her father’s house. [She might have let this alone.] The Captain renewed all his protestations of service.  He would write me word how his dear friend received the account he should give him of the happy situation of our affairs, and what he thought of the settlements, as soon as I should send him the draughts so kindly promised.  And we parted with great professions of mutual esteem; my beloved putting up vows for the success of his generous mediation.